Julian
It felt like my world had come tumbling down. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. I couldn't fathom how did it come to this. Sorrow shot through me when I saw her fragile and bleeding, cradled in that monster's arms.
"Get your paws off her!" Blind rage ripped from my chest. My hands trembled with fury; I wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands.
"Careful, you pathetic, useless thing," he hissed, contempt souring his voice. "She can't protect you… not for now."
My blood boiled. I clenched my fists and forced myself to breathe. My hand closed around the small dagger I'd taken from Asteria, fingers squeezing until my knuckles ached. The man didn't move; he only watched me with that cold, amused stare.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, low and slow. His gaze met mine, lips curving as if to bare his teeth. "You saw what I can do. For whatever reason, you're important to her, so I'll try not to kill you… for the moment. But I can't promise I won't beat the crap out of you."
I forced my jaw shut and held the dagger like a promise, every muscle coiled, waiting for the first move. The world narrowed to Asteria's shallow breathing and the man's indifferent smile. Whatever he wanted, whatever game he was playing, I would not let him take her without a fight.
He snatched the dagger from my hand in a motion too fast to follow. In the blink of an eye he made a precise, shallow cut across his own wrist. Dark blood welled and ran down his forearm.
I watched, frozen, as he guided that blood to Asteria's lips. Rage surged and I lunged, only for his hand to clamp around my throat.
"If you want her to live, I have to do this," he growled, voice low and terrible. He tightened his grip just enough to make me understand he meant it. "Be useful. Press on her wound. Slow the bleeding."
I swallowed the rage and obeyed because she was all that mattered. My fingers found the ragged tear in her shirt and then her skin; blood slicked my palms as I pressed down hard, trying to staunch the flow. Her breath came shallow and fast, a small, ragged sound that set my lungs on fire.
The road smelled of rain and iron.
"What are you?" I rasped, voice raw. "Who are you to do this—who are you to take her?"
He didn't answer. He only watched her as he fed her, the act oddly intimate. A wave of nausea, jealousy, and anger washed through me; I wanted to rip his throat out.
Her fingers twitched on my wrist, just for a moment, and that was enough. I scooped her into my arms, holding her thigh, whispering into her ear. "I'm here, love. Everything will be all right."
The man watched coldly, fists balling as Asteria reacted to my voice. He rose and opened the backseat door of the car.
"Get in," he barked.
I ran the options through my head and found none. "You don't have any other choice," he added, as if reading me.
I complied and climbed into the car, never leaving Asteria's side. I held her close and caressed her skin. She looked so small. So fragile.
He drove fast through the woods, God knew where, rocking us from time to time. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror; I met him without flinching. I wanted him to know I was ready to die for her. She was everything. I could hardly believe what was happening, but I forced myself to stay calm for her, replaying the scene over and over in my head, looking for any way out.
The car stopped in front of a stone cottage. He opened the door with a force that nearly tore it from its hinges and took her from my arms. The house, small at first glance, grew more imposing as we approached. Ivy wrapped the gray stones like a living curtain; a heavy wooden door banded with iron guarded its secrets. I didn't like the look of it.
We didn't have time to knock. The door flew open and a dozen young women filled the threshold.
"What the hell happened?" one demanded, her voice as fiery as her lustrous hair.
He walked past them into a large hall, ignoring their questions with me on his heels. He brushed by paintings and statuettes without a glance, his steps sure and silent, carrying Asteria as if she were the only thing that mattered. As if he weren't the reason she lay like this. I kept my anger contained, trying to take in the room without losing sight of them.
"What the hell happened?" one of them asked as fiery as her luscios hair.
He walked past them into a large hall, ignoring their questions with me on his tail. He brushed by paintings and statuettes without a glance, his steps sure and silent, carrying Asteria as if she were the only thing that mattered in the room. As if he wasn't the reason she was in that state. I kept my anger contained inside, trying to take in my surroundings quietly without losing sight of them. He entered a spacious chamber with windows stretching nearly to the ceiling and laid her gently in front of a roaring fireplace, on a worn leather couch. The others gathered around her, whispers filling the air.
"What did you do to her?" the redhead snapped, furious.
"You'll need to tie her up soon enough. She'll wake and she's quite feisty," he replied, dismissing the question.
"You piece of shi—"
"Careful, little squirrel," he growled, his patience gone. "Or I'll turn you into a fine meal for the hounds."
I watched their exchange, forcing my breathing slow and steady. They were talking about restraints, clear proof the danger wasn't over. My throat tightened. Whatever this place was, it wasn't sanctuary yet.
"And who the fuck is that?" the redhead demanded, narrowing her eyes as she stepped forward. Her voice carried the kind of heat that made people flinch; the others quieted at once and turned to look.
"He's hers." the man said simply, with that same lazy menace.
"You must be fucking kidding me." She laughed bitterly but didn't take her eyes off me. "Why didn't you get rid of him? How, in the name of the Mother, did you think bringing him here was a good idea?"
"Enough, Ignes!" he barked, his voice slicing through the murmurs."You think I like this situation? He's the fucking reason this happened in the first place! He's indispensable to her so right now I want to keep my eyes on him. Maybe he would be of help. Or maybe not. But right now I need you to take a fucking order and do what you are told for once!" The last words came out like a growl, something deeper than simple anger.
He turned sharply. "I have to make rounds and secure the perimeter. Orin, tend her wounds and make her some of your special tea."
Then he looked back at the redhead, tone low and dangerous. "Ignes. Just do your fucking job."
With that, he stormed out, leaving me standing in a room full of curious eyes and uneasy whispers.